Fire and Ice
by melodysdiary
Summary: AN AU REINCARNATION FIC / The Arthurian legends are practically unknown. So what happens when the reincarnations of King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Lady Morgana, and Merlin start to remember their past lives while living in the present? Summer 2012: four strangers with connected pasts meet each other for the first time.
1. Chapter I MORGANA

**TITLE:** FIRE AND ICE - CHAPTER I

**RATING:** T

**A/Ns:** So this is the first chapter of my reincarnation fic. Updates are going to be once or twice every week. Yes, I know this chapter is short. The first couple are going to be like this, but once we get to London they will be longer.

Also, I'll say this right now so you won't waste your time: IF YOU STRONGLY DISLIKE MORGANA OR THE IDEA OF A ROMANCE BETWEEN ARTHUR AND MORGANA THEN BOW OUT NOW.

With that said, please enjoy chapter one of Fire and Ice... :)

* * *

_Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice. _

- "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost

* * *

**JUNE 23****RD**** 2012 - MORGANA  
**

Morgana rolled her shoulders back and forth, trying to relieve some of the tension that had formed there throughout the day as she entered her apartment's living room. She had been sitting in an extremely uncomfortable chair for an hour and a half and the effects of being in a fifty degree angle for the majority of the time were starting to get to her.

As she flicked on the lights she took in the room before her; the bright white walls, a couch, couple of chairs, a fireplace, but no television. No, her method of unwinding after a grueling day of meetings was usually with a good book and a glass of wine. But even that seemed like it took more effort than she could handle at the moment. All she wanted to do was slip into a nice hot bath, pull on a pair of comfy pjs, and drift off to sleep for the night.

These past week and a half had been anything but pleasant. After the spring term had ended, Morgana had been looking forward to a relaxing summer with her mother in Dublin before heading back to New York to prepare for the fall term. Apparently life had other plans.

The nights following the end of Columbia's 2011-2012 year had been hell. Either she had a bout of insomnia or freakishly realistic nightmares. Her neighbor Marcus had complained the third night of terrors, pounding on her door, the noise waking her from her dream, stating that she and what he assumed to be her partner needed to keep the screaming down to a minimum. But Morgana had never had another person stay the night other than her mother and another professor named Lucinda when she ended up crashing at the apartment after one too many glasses of red wine. The screaming had been caused by her nightmares.

They all seemed to have the same theme. She was running from a fire through a wide, stone hallway in what seemed to be either a very large, old style mansion or a castle of some sort. She never knew what caused the fire or where she was or even who the hell _she_ was, but it didn't matter; she needed to get out and away from the danger. She would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping for air that couldn't come fast enough. After the fifth night of night terrors she decided to seek professional help, making an appointment with her GP, Dr. Gershwin, for this afternoon. Gershwin had asked her a shit load of questions about the dreams and then prescribed some medication that she claimed in her dull, monotone voice that it would help the English 101 professor sleep soundly through the night.

Flicking the light on in her kitchen, Dr. Morgana Gorlois pulled out the bottle of pills she had picked up from the pharmacy and placed it on her countertop. One before bed each night read the label on the blinding white plastic container. She sighed to herself as she made her way to the master bedroom, pulled her holey sweater over her head and tossing it on the ground off the gray colored room before heading into her bathroom to start to bath tube's tap.

As she finished stripping down, she glanced over at the packed suitcase parked at the foot of her bed. She was set to be on a plane to London, England tomorrow morning to pick up her mother from her Aunt Anna's flat and then board another plane to Ireland that evening. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, she had taken the trip every summer since she started her master's program, but her energy was completely drained from her system thanks to the past nine nights of either seeing images that caused her entire body to shake with paralyzing fear or no sleep whatsoever. A multi hour flight was the last thing she wanted to participate in at the moment, but she knew her mother wanted to see her as did Morgana.

She grew up a navy brat, her father constantly moving them from this state to that state across the US. By the time she had graduated high school, Morgana had lived in seven different states (Michigan, New Mexico, Ohio, California, New York, Florida, and Georgia), each one worse than the one before. It wasn't that she didn't love being in a new place every so often, she loved the aspect of another adventure waiting to unfold; it was the kids who teased her relentlessly. She didn't look like everyone else; she was paler than the moon with long black hair that she refused to cut unless she absolutely had to and was much smarter than the rest of her peers when it came to academics.

To say that life growing up for Morgana was hard was an understatement, but once she got into Stanford she seemed to finally settle into an atmosphere with people who accepted who she was. She knew that she wanted to be an English teacher going into her freshman year and after earning her doctorate in the profession she accepted a position teaching at Colombia University in New York. School had taken up the majority of her twenties, but she didn't mind it. She was learning what she loved and that's what made her happy.

Her father was diagnosed with esophageal cancer two months before her graduation and had passed six months after she had received her diploma. Her mother had decided to run from everything that reminded her of his existence, selling their house in Georgia and moving back to Dublin where she had grown up. Morgana on the other hand wanted to make him proud, not try to forget him. New York was his favorite city by far so when she took the English 101 position at the University the twenty seven year old felt like she was honoring his memory in a way. To the average person it seemed odd but not to Morgana.

After bathing and taking the minuscule sleeping pill, Morgana turned down the black covers and sheets of her queen sized bed, exhausted from her long day of packing and appointments. She had set her alarm clock for seven AM before climbing between the blankets and settling back into the comfort of her mattress. Sleep enveloped her within minutes.

* * *

_She skidded to a stop in a large room, bright orange light streamed through the windows above her head as she bent forward, palm to her abdomen, trying to catch her breath._

_"MORGANA!" A man screamed at her from the corridor she had just vacated. She just needed a minute; just a minute to catch her breath._

_"MORGANA!" A female voice this time came trickling into her consciousness. She heard footsteps come rushing into the room the moment her knees fell to the cold stone ground._

_A man covered in chainmail and armor came into her peripheral view to her left, kneeling beside her as did a woman wearing a black dress. The woman placed a gentle hand on her back as Morgana continued to gasp for air. "Morgana. We need to go. We need to get to the-"_

_The sound of a door opening in front of them to her right echoed through the room as she looked up and saw another man rushing in. "Arthur! We need to go! Now!" He had dark hair and sharp cheekbones._

_"Not without Morgana." Arthur said. She turned and saw blond hair and alarmingly blue eyes staring into her green ones._

_"Forget her!" The one with the cheekbones yelled. The woman beside her stumbled to get up, using Arthur's shoulder as a crutch and Morgana realized that the dress wasn't black in color but covered with soot._

_"Help us get her up, Merlin." The woman with the dark skin and darker dress commanded as she moved to Morgana's right and leaned in close. "Can you walk?" The question was directed to her but no words would come to her lips, no matter how hard she tried. She nodded and felt top sets of hands, one strong and large the other dainty but with a firm grip, take her arms at the elbows and haul her up._

_"GUINEVERE ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!" Merlin screamed at the woman who had been speaking so calmly to her. Morgana's voice came to her at once, "ENOUGH!" she panted, pulling her arms from Arthur and Guinevere's grips, "Where are we going?" Her voice sounded foreign to her ears, but she pushed the thought aside for now._

_"The stables. Gwaine and Leon have the horses there for-"_

_The one named Arthur stopped speaking as a horrible sound that resembled that of a grumbling stomach but much, much louder filled the room._

_Everything happened all at once. Dust filled her nose, her eyes, her mouth as Morgana tried to scream. Bright orange light filled her vision as she was violently pushed backwards into Guinevere by Arthur. The wooden beam blazing with fire separated the women from the men. She couldn't see them, couldn't hear anything over the crackling sound of wood and Guinevere's screams to stand up and follow her out to safety._

_But she had to make sure Arthur was alright. He had to be okay. He had to be safe._

* * *

Morgana woke up coughing, overheated, and tears staining her cheeks. That was the most vivid dream she had had to date. Slowly she came back to reality, turning towards her alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:55 AM it read. Groaning, she raised an arm to cover her eyes as she contemplated going back to sleep for another five minutes. It didn't seem worth it.

So the medication didn't work. She should feel disappointed, really she should, but instead Morgana felt a level of… was it satisfaction? In the dreams she had experienced before she had never seen or interacted with anyone else and was always running. In this one she had seen three others, spoken to them, and even stopped the marathon race away from danger for a little bit it seemed. The one odd characteristic about these dreams it seemed was that they didn't fade away as most dreams did. Instead they stayed with her as if they were real memories from a life she had already lived. Which couldn't be possible, could it?

Could you really remember memories you had never lived out before in your lifetime?


	2. Chapter II GUINEVERE

FIRE AND ICE

CHAPTER II

**A/Ns: **Back again! I apologize for the wait. Life got a bit hectic this past week and I wasn't able to upload this as fast as I would have liked. Originally I wanted to merge this chapter with the next but decided against it.

There is a bit of a trigger warning with this one in regards to a major character having a miscarriage.

Next bit should be up by next Wednesday :)

* * *

**JUNE 23****RD**** 2012**

The sound of leather boots colliding with metal rang out through the sweltering front office of Thomas and Brothers Auto Shop and Repairs as Gwen swore under her breath. "Damn AC. Work damnit!" She bent down for the fifth time that day and checked the wires jetting out from the back of the tin box that came up to her waist. She had been battling with the stupid device all day, cursing it, the Savannah heat, and her brother for leaving her to attend the front desk whilst her father worked out in the garage. "Of all days to leave-AH HA!" she cheered triumphantly and raised both of her arms in victory as the machine grumbled to life.

"You get it workin'?" Her father asked from the doorway connecting the office to the side garage. He was an older man than he looked thanks to the years of heaving heavy auto parts here and there. The lines on his face were shallower than those of his friends' and his face was split with a grin that stretched from ear to ear almost constantly. The mechanics daughter nodded as she rose, wiping her sweaty palms on her old jeans, "Yup, though I still think we need to replace it."

The grin on Thom's face faltered slightly, knowing where the conversation was heading, "No Gwen." But the hurricane that was Guinevere Thomas was already starting up on another one of her tirades, "Honestly dad, I don't need to go. It just costs more money to have me babysit Elyan. He's a grown man. You need me to stay here and help you with the shop. You can't do every-"

"Guinevere!" Thom reached out and grabbed both her upper arms to stop her constant pacing that she had unconsciously picked up. "Guinevere Madeline Thomas, the only thing I need you to do is make sure your little brother doesn't get into trouble while he's on vacation in Europe." He continued on through her protests, "Yes, I realize that he is an adult, but he's an adult without any common sense or idea of his limitations. He needs a guiding eye."

"Who needs a guidin' eye?" The front door swung open to reveal an extremely disheveled Elyan and Gwen rolled her eyes at his state of dress. The last time she had seen her brother had been last night after dinner, when he announced that he was going over to Austin's house to play video games. Video games? Yeah right. Judging by his appearance the only way video games were involved in last night's adventures was if he and his friends were taking shots after every level they reached.

"You do, and Gwen, this is the last time we speak about this subject. You're going to Britain with your brother while he goes to visit his friends. End of story." And with that her father left his two children and headed back out to the garage.

"What's the big deal, sis? You're always talkin' 'bout seein' the world; this is the perfect chance!" Gwen shook her head and started back towards her seat behind her desk, plucking at her Atlanta Braves tank top as she went. "Yes, but no offense, El, I just want to go by myself or with Liv and Marnie, not as your chaperone. You'll see Brett and Jordan and Sam, sure, but what am I supposed to do? It just seems like a waste of money that dad shouldn't be spending." She was sounding stuck up and brat-ish, but she really didn't want to leave the country at the moment. Not when there was so much to do at the shop. The AC was only the start of it; soon the ceiling will be leaky once they had fall rainstorms, the heater would go out in the winter, and the next time there was a flood?

Gwen suppressed a shiver at the thought of another wet winter and countless phone calls to the insurance company about damage not only to the shop but to their home as well. Certain areas of Savannah are lucky enough not to be hit too severely, but the two buildings that the Thomas family owned were not within those borders. Most years they were lucky, but Gwen could count on one hand how many times the three of them had been forced to evacuate their home only to return to soaking floors and soggy linens.

"Hang with Artie! You guys're the same age." Elyan leaned forward over the lip of the desk, arms crossed and acting as a pillow for his chin. His sister glanced up at him, "Who's Artie?"

"Friend of Sam's. His dad's some big hot shot in London or somethin' and owns a soccer team. Kicked the bucket a few months 'go, though." A pang of sympathy hit Gwen square in the chest as she thought about this mystery man. _Poor thing, losing his dad. If he's my age it must've been sudden. I'm only twenty six. _"What happened?" She knew she shouldn't ask and that it was really none of her business but it was just a simple question. Her brother shrugged, "Don't know. Sam said he doesn't talk 'bout it but 'parently it was all o'er the news 'cross the pond. 'Parently he left that team I was talkin' 'bout to Artie in his will. Don't know how that went o'er but 'parently Art's in charge now."

"Wait, so he loses his dad one day, then gains a soccer team the next?" The fax machine whirled to life behind her and she moved to rise from her seat, "What's his name? Full name, I mean?" _Because no father in his right mind would willingly name his son "Artie", let alone one that owned a freaking sports team._She reached to grab the paper from the machine as she waited for Elyan to answer her.

"Arthur. Arthur Pendragon."

The world went black.

* * *

_She woke to someone screaming, kneeling in front of her. She was lying down on her right side, arms wrapped around her abdomen. Sot burned her eyes, making them water as the smoke in the air burned her chest. Her vision blurred, her hearing was shot, but she fought the comforting black to stay awake._

_A hand was on her left arm protectively. It belonged to the man in front of her. Her vision cleared._

_Arthur._

_"Arthur." Her voice was strained and she took a deep breath, gasping as a sudden pain hit her lower torso._

_She looked down the length of her body and found it covered in black dust. She fought for another breath that refused to come without a stabbing pain from within her._

_Tears filled her eyes as she lifted her hand to find it black and drenched with blood. She began to sob silently._

_"We need to get you out. Guinevere? Guinevere, we need to get you to the horses. Can you walk? Please answer me my love."_

_He couldn't see it. He couldn't see the blood._

_She gripped his arms and let him haul her up to her feet, an uncomfortable sensation running over her from the waist down. The feeling of emptiness and something flooding her skirts overwhelmed her._

_She needed to move._

_She took a few careful steps and found that she could. Strength was returning to her miraculously fast._

_"Yes." She answered as she turned towards the blond man covered in chainmail with an intense look within his eyes. Her voice was clearer now, but still sounded strange to her own ears._

_"We need to find Morgana. Leon has the horses ready. We need to go."_

_"Where is she?" The room was starting to brighten slowly, as if someone was uncovering the sun._

_"She's... hall... Mer... magi..." His voice was echoing in her ears, the room brightening into a white light faster and faster as she fought to hold onto his voice, his face, him..._

* * *

"Gwen! Gwen!" Her brother's voice flooded her senses as she squinted against the sunlight pouring into the office. She was on the floor behind her desk and beside the large table holding the fax machine and printer. The left side of her head throbbed. "What happened?" Her voice had the same weird trill that it did from her dream. It was a dream wasn't it? _A very, very, vivid dream._

"I don't know. You fell and hit your head." He was worried, and if his perfect diction wasn't a clue to how scared for her he was, the way he was holding her head in his palm gently would be her clue. She bent forward to sit up and felt a stabbing pain in her stomach. Her hand flew there, but as soon as she looked down, it was gone. _A phantom pain, Gwen. From your dream. It's nothing._

"How long was I out for?" There it was again; that strange trill to her voice that made her sound so... weird. She turned to face her brother, confusion coloring his face. "Not... long. Gwen, why're you talking like that?" She tilted her head, a headache slowly forming behind her eyes from the fall. _Wonderful, Gwen. The last thing you needed was a concussion._"Like you're British or somethin'."

She cleared her throat, "Sor-" she cleared it once more "Sorry, I didn't realize I was doing it." Gwen let her brother help her up and back into her seat. "I should tell dad." Elyan turned towards the office door, but Gwen grabbed his wrist, "No! No, it's fine. He'll just send me home. It's probably just the heat. I should be fine after a glass of water." Her brother nodded and offered to grab her a bottle of Arrowhead from the back room. Once he was gone she let out a breath she hadn't realized she had kept in.

She had fainted before, sure, but that was usually due to hat or exhaustion. She was perfectly fine two seconds ago and then, boom. It was odd and not right at all. Maybe she was coming down with a bug. Gwen made a mental note to talk with her doctor after she got back from their trip. She really should see him beforehand, but the day was almost done and there was no time to see him the next day.

They were leaving tomorrow morning.


End file.
